Him and Her
by InsecureLemon
Summary: The 'follow up' of "Us and Them". StalkerxPriestess: Prontera's Sanctuary had always had struggling relations with the Assassin Guild- and for good reason. But assassins aren't the only ones to look out for.
1. Chapter 1: The Messenger

_**A/N:** Hey! Well, um, I guess this is the follow up to "Us and Them". For those of you who haven't read it it's not required to understand this story but it provides some-what of an insight. The Stalker (narrator) from "Us and Them" is the same one that's going to be featured in here.  
... I really need to work on finishing stories I start. /desp_

_Update, 05.27.10: Just going back and fixing some errors, etc._

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 1: The Messenger**

Her footsteps were muffled by the sand beneath her feet, her prints nothing but slight depressions in the grains. Maybe thieves made their bases in the desert for a reason.

It was annoying, actually. Aside from the fact that her shoes kept slipping with every step she could swear that she had picked up at least half a pound of sand in her shoes alone. Oh well, that's what she got for going off of the "path" in Morroc.

Finally the priestess could feel her heel connect with sturdy ground again and she squinted ahead. Even in the falling dusk she could make out a rough, wooden sign with worn-out red letters that red "Morroc Pub" hanging above the doorway of an old stone building. The girl's step quickened as she hurried inside, shutting the creaking door behind her.

She sighed lightly, leaning against the wall and brushed a bit of dark blue hair from her eyes. Her other hand reached down to empty the sand from her shoes. Straightening back up she knocked her toe to the ground once to secure her shoe and looked around, the hood of her cloak covering the top half of her face.

The pub was a dimly-lit place, filled with the smell of dust and alcohol. There was maybe about five other people there, including the bartender; though none of them seemed to take notice when the door opened. She looked around quickly, exhaled, and walked quickly across the room, leaning against the counter, trying to get the bartender's attention.

Finally, the man looked up, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Ya want something?"

"Um, well…" The priestess blinked, taken aback. The Church had told her the people in Morroc weren't exactly the nicest of folks, but really! "If you—I have this— um…"

"Waitta sec. You from the Church?" The bartender raised his head, looking at the girl fully for the first time, his interest suddenly sparked. "What do they want?"

The girl pursed her lips, but didn't answer. Instead she simply slid a hand into her robes and pulled out a piece of folded parchment, the words "Assassin Guild" written in a blue, loopy scrawl across the front.

The bartender's eyebrow raised as her saw this and he quickly took it from the girl's possession, checked for something on the back, and roughly shoved it back into her hands, along with a small rusted key.

He did this without a word, but seemed to have reached a kind of understanding. Leaning forward the man whispered something in the girl's ear and she nodded. turning to go back outside, the priestess gave a quick glance back over her shoulder and shut the door behind her.

Holding the letter in her hand she looked around again and slid to the side of the building, following its wall until she found what appeared to be a cellar door, a rusted iron lock. Well, it seemed to match. Taking the key from her pocket she inserted it into the keyhole and turned it.

She was rewarded with a small click and the padlock popping open, allowing the girl to slip inside. It was even dustier down in the cellar, darker, too.

"_Ruwach !"_

A pale blue light appeared circling around the girl's midriff and lighting the room in a rather eerie glow.

"How did you get in here?" A quiet but rough voice sounded from one of the few shadows left in the room, causing the girl to jump. A tall, slender figure walked forward, clothed in the classic Assassin Cross uniform. With golden-colored hair partially hidden under a Boy's Cap. The man's arms were crossed in front of his chest, both his icy blue eyes and the knifes on his gauntlets reflecting her Ruwach's light, flashing a warning.

"I, uh—"

"I _said,_ 'how did you get in here?'." He glared at the girl, taking a step forward. The cross's voice doubled in the threats it carried. "_Don't_ make me ask again."

"I'm—I'm Ninya Cruze! I was sent here by the Pronteran Church regarding the alliance of the Sanctuary and the Assassins' Guild!"

She flinched, saying this all very fast and in one breath. Bringing out the parchment and holding it in front of her like a miniature shield, her head bowed and her eyes shut tight as the assassin walked towards her.

He frowned slightly, swiping the letter from her hand. Turning it over, his eyes landing on the Sanctuary's seal. Apparently satisfied the cross gave a small nod. "Fine. I'll show this to the higher-ups. We'll have our response to whatever's in here back in the morning. You're not expected back 'til then, right? Stay at the inn or something; we'll send the reply back with you. Now give me back that key and get out."

Ninya whimpered slightly, cringing under the man's cold voice and stare. She nodded quickly and turned around, scampering out of the cellar.

As soon as she had relocked the cellar door behind her the priestess' posture slumped and she stomped the sand with a mixture of annoyance and frustration. The Church and the Assassins' Guild had been working for over twenty years to establish a peaceful relationship, and they were close than ever now. Ninya knew the importance and impact that finally having an alliance with them could be, but honestly? They creeped her out. Plus, their manners (or lack there of) wasn't something she appreciated, either.

She shivered slightly; the cold partially coming from the desert night and partially from her mental reliving of simply being in the same _room_ with that assassin cross. Drawing her hood back up around herself, Ninya stepped back onto the path and headed east towards the Inn.

"Stupid assassin. Honestly!" The girl muttered to herself, feeling a good bit braver now that she was out of that horrid cellar and away from the assassin and his icy glare. As she turned down another just-devised 'short-cut' of hers. "Don't tell me what to do! What if I don't _want_ to stay in Morroc over night? What if I had something else to do? I can't just sit around and play messenger all da— Oof!"

Ninya tripped over what resembled a log in the shadows, causing her to stumble forward a bit. Catching her balance, she turned, hearing a grunting noise from the so-called 'log'.

"Oh my gosh!" The girl's hands flew up to her mouth, realizing the cause of her fall was actually a man's leg. "I'm sorry! I-I didn't see you! Are you alright?" She hurried back and knelt down next to the man. Pulling her hood down, the girl cast another Ruwach around herself and the man. She shifted the hem of his cloak aside, her attention focused on the tattered leg of his pants. Really, there wasn't any harm done. No cut, no blood, not even a possible bruise. But of course, being raised to help people whenever possible Ninya had managed to overreact.

"I'm sorry!" The girl repeated, her palm glowing a faint green as she touched the man's leg, healing whatever tiny possible scratch she could have caused.

"S'notta prol'm, babe."

Ninya's head shot up as she felt the man's hand on her shoulder. "I-I'm glad… Are you all right, sir? You seem a bit, um…"

Drunk. She frowned inwardly. No wonder he was sleeping in the middle of the alley…

"'M fine now, thanks tuh you."

"Th-that's good." Ninya backed up slightly, making to stand when she felt a surprisingly strong grasp around her wrist as the man half pulled, half pushed himself up, causing the priestess' knees to buckle slightly at the sudden, unexpected force.

The man's eyes were unfocused, but he stood quite steady despite the stench of alcohol on his breath. Messy, spiked, bluish hair was matted down and quite a bit of stubble had peeked through around his chin and cheeks. Dark shadows were carved into the space under brownish, almost— golden…?— eyes. The girl momentarily wondered how long he had been in the alleyway.

Her musing, however, was quickly wiped from her mind by the man's swift movement of pinning her up against the wall. His unfocused eyes scanned over her body, his alcohol-filled breath bouncing off of her neck. The man leaned in closer as his right hand dropped lower, feeling along the priestess's back.

Ninya whimpered, her heart beat echoing in her head, serving as an alarm for her to move. She didn't though. She couldn't. She was too frightened. Here, this man—this drunken stranger— had her pinned up against the side of an alleyway in the dead of night and he was groping her—in the City of Thieves no less! Great. Just _great_. This was _not_ headed in a good direction.

"Y'r a r'l sweetie, huh?" The man smirked, leaning in even closer, one hand still exploring the lower part of the girl's body, the other at her chest, keeping her pressed firmly against the stone.

Emerald eyes widened as Ninya felt a quick squeeze to her bottom and she gasped. The man laughed quietly, and took her chin in his hand, tilting her face up as he hovered over her, leaning ever closer.

"D-Don't touch me!" Ninya's voice finally managed to find itself back up to her throat as the girl shoved the drunk backwards making him bump into the opposite wall. Tears were freely flowing now and she was breathing heavily, her face flushed.

The man looked up, startled at the girl's actions. He straightened up, his hand in front of him in an awkward reaching gesture, an unreadable look on his face as he took another step towards the priestess.

"I said don't touch me!" Ninya shrieked, stepping backwards back in the direction she came. "Stay away!" She took another step backwards. Wide, frightened eyes reflected the silhouette of the man in front of them before their owner spun around and began to runfull-speed back onto the city's main pathway.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ninya slowed to a stop. Her body was shaking and tears still flowed as she sank to her knees, her arms wrapped around herself. After a few moments the priestess looked up, tear streaks staining her cheeks. Oh, God. What had just happened? She shivered, her insides twisting themselves up in a messy, painful knot. She could still feel the man's hand on her chest, his breath on her neck and face… she could still smell the alcohol that surrounded him. She had come so close, _so close_ to—Ninya clenched her teeth, shaking her head violently. No… no… She wouldn't think bout that. After all, she was fine… A little shaken up, perhaps, but she was fine. Besides, she had her mission to finish in the morning; she still had to bring back the Assassins' Guild's reply.

Giving a small hiccup, the priestess stood up and drew her cloak back around herself, her knuckles white as she clutched the fabric. Wiping her eyes and face Ninya straightened up as best she could and squinted ahead. A faint glow ahead told her that the Morrocan Inn was close by. A shaky hand checked her robes and gave a sigh of relief. The man must have been too drunk to realize that she was carrying zeny with her.

"'Sc-scuse me… Um, I'd like t-to check in, please." Ninya leaned over the counter of the inn, looking around for someone, "Just for one person… I know it's late… Um… hello? Is- is anyone there?"

"Ah—I'm sorry, dear." An elderly woman dressed in a nightgown and slippers came out from the back, stifling a yawn with one hand and holding a very melted candle in the other. "Do you know what time it is?" She looked down at Ninya, "What are you doing checking in just now?"

"I'm sorry, Ma'am." The priestess looked up, "I um… I got held up."

The woman nodded and smiled, "I understand. But you know, you need to be careful around here—especially at night. Morroc isn't exactly the best town in Migard, you know."

Ninya felt her knees start to shake and her stomach do a flip, but she nodded none the less and forced a small smile, "Yes, ma'am. Thank you."

"Mm." She nodded, placing the candle on the desk and pulling out a note book, "Now then, miss, what's your name? What kind of room do you need?"

"N-Ninya Cruze. I only need a single bed for tonight… Do you have room?"

"Ah, yes. All right." The woman nodded, writing Ninya's name in her book along with a few more things that Ninya didn't quite see, "One second." The woman disappeared into the back again and brought out a small brass key the Morrocan Flag engraved into its face. "Your room is number 23. It's just up the stairs and to the right. There number's on the door so you won't miss it. Please return the key tomorrow when you check out! Oh, and—" The woman ducked beneath the desk and emerged with another candle. She stuck it on a holder and held it to her already lit one. It took a moment for the flame to catch on the new wick, but when it did the woman handed Ninya the candle and gave her another friendly smile and a wave. "Good night and please enjoy your stay. If you have any questions feel free to ask. Of course," she giggled, "You'll have to come and poke me awake. That might take a while."

Ninya laughed lightly and thanked the woman. Bowing slightly and taking the candle and the key she headed up the stairs to her room.


	2. Chapter 2: The Savior?

_**A/N:** Yay! I actually got around to typing (much less uploading) a second chapter! /fsh  
Anyways, this is a bit longer than my last chapter, but the third one is probably gonna go back to being shorter. Um, again, I'd love any reviews you guy have for me. 3_

_

* * *

_

Chapter 2: The Savior…?

The inn may not have been as 'clean' as the ones in Prontera, but they did have running water. Ninya stepped out of the shower, wrapping a worn towel around her chest, her dark blue hair stuck to her back, dripping with water. The priestess tucked the towel inside itself and squeezed the water from her hair and headed back into the (only) other room.

She hadn't packed another set of robes—or underwear, even. It wasn't like she had _planned_ to say over-night… or planned to have that little 'encounter' in the alley. Ninya grimaced and twisted her hair in her hands again sending a few more drops of water to the floor. The shower had helped a bit, but she still wasn't eager to think about what had happened. She sighed, collapsing into her pillow, her eyes staring up and the dark ceiling. She wouldn't tell the Church about what had happened. It wasn't like she didn't trust them, or even that she thought that it was better kept as a secret, she just… didn't want them to worry. After all, she was fine.

Ninya turned her attention to outside of the dirty window across the room. The world was tinted the outside world a dull grey-brown but she could see the city none the less. She could see the sky, too. The stars were much more visible out here than in Prontera. Ninya supposed that it was to be expected, though. After all, Morroc wasn't anywhere near the size (or population of) Prontera….  
-

She groaned slightly, the back of her hand resting on top of her forehead. Ninya opened one eye and looked around. The light was flooding in through the dirty window… Ah, she must have fallen asleep sometime last ni—Wait a minute. Light? How long had she been asleep?

Ninya sat bolt-up right in her bed, her towel coming lose and falling down onto her lap. Flustered, Ninya quickly gathered the bath towel and hopped up. Pulling on her clothes and undergarments she quickly ran her fingers though her hair, pulled on her cloak and shoes, grabbed the key from the bed-side table and dashed out of the room.

So much for getting back to Prontera early.

The priestess skidded around the hall, jumping the last five stairs on her way down and came to an abrupt halt in front of the desk.

"Oh, hello, dear." The woman smiled, "It's almost eleven. I was wondering when you were going to wake up."

Ninya nodded, still catching her breath, "Yes—I know, I'm sorry. I overslept…"

"No need to apologize. Did you enjoy your stay?"

"I did, thanks." Ninya smiled, "Um, hang on…" She placed the key on the counter and began rummaging though her cloak, "How much for the room?"

"5000 zeny, please."

Ninya nodded and pulled out the designated amount, "Thank you very much for the room," She bowed slightly, "I have to go now. Thank you!"

The innkeeper nodded, smiling, "Any time. Please travel safely!"

Ninya walked with a quickened step, dodging in between the crowds along the streets. She was careful to stay on the main path this time, day time or not. She only diverged from the path when she approached the pub, doing her best to head to the cellar door without being noticed.

Now, aside from the fact that she was annoyed at herself for oversleeping and delaying her own return to the Church, she was also worried about how that assassin cross would deal with her timing. True, they hadn't exactly set a designated hour for her to pick up the letter, but something told her that his preference was early—before the people started coming out and she wasn't exactly keen to find out what assassins did if time didn't go their way.

Ninya bent down next to the cellar door and knocked three times, hoping that he would be recognized. A minute or two passed and Ninya was starting to wonder if she should come back at another time, maybe when there were less people around (though that wasn't exactly something she was eager to do) when a cold voice came though.

"You're the priest girl, right? Well, come on." An unseen hand pushed another key though a crack in the door doors, "No one followed you, right?"

She fumbled, grabbing the key and putting it in the lock again, opening the cellar door. Seriously, there had to be a more convenient way of getting in and out of this place. Opening the doors she climbed down the stairs, the door getting shut behind her, causing Ninya to jump and turn around.

There was a lamp on a near by desk, enough light to light up the room without her Ruwach, even if it was only dim. Ninya blinked a few times, trying to help her eyes adjust to the new dimness around her as her eyes landed on a figure leaning against the wall. It wasn't the same assassin cross as last night— the major difference? This one was a female.

"You're that priest from last night? Ninya, right?" The woman's voice was rough and cold, but it had a strange, almost soothing tone to it all the same. She stepped forward, flicking blossom-pink hair out of hazel eyes, "Yeah, Seth told me about you."

"Seth?" Ninya repeated, "You mean the assassin cross that was here last night?"

"Yeah, that's him. Didn't tell you his name, huh?"

Ninya shook her head.

"Oh well. That's typical. I'm Cherise. Your letter is over there." Cherise nodded towards the desk, "Our Guild Leader's response is on the back of your letter, okay?"

"Cherise—"

The priestess looked up to see another girl standing in a doorway to which she assumed lead to the pub, "Raiken-sama wants to see you—Oh!" The girl stepped forward cautiously, and Ninya could see her hands go instinctively to the katars at her waist.

"Take it easy, Gale." Cherise turned to the girl in purple, the regular assassin, "She's from the church, here on that alliance thing that's been going on."

"Oh, right." The girl called Gale nodded, relaxing a bit, "Okay, well just so you know, Raiken wants to talk to you."

"Will do." Cherise nodded, "Thanks."

She nodded, "Sure thing."

The cross turned back to Ninya, "Right. Sorry bout that. So like I was saying, your letter's on the table there. Oh, and… If you need to come and visit us again try our main headquarters. It's just southeast of here. It's a bit of a walk, maybe about a day, but you have Warp Portals, right? Shouldn't be too hard. Just tell 'em I told you about the place, 'kay? They'll let you in. And if not I'll deal with 'em myself." She grinned, winking. "Thanks for stopping by, Ninya."

The priestess nodded hesitantly and smiled tentatively "Uh—yeah, n-no problem." She walked towards the desk, grabbing the letter. Rummaging though her pockets she pulled out a blue gemstone and threw it into the air. She shouted a quick "_Warp Portal !"_ causing a blue and white vortex to appear where the gem had been not seconds before. Stepping forward, Ninya paused and turned around giving the female cross a quick "Thanks!" before she disappeared.

"Oh, Ninya!"

The priestess stepped out of her portal, her shoe connecting with the cobblestone of Prontera's path in front of the Church. She looked up to see a woman in nun's clothing running towards her. "Hello, Mother Trace."

"You had us worried." The woman came to a stop in front of the girl, "I didn't know you were going to stay over night."

"Me neither, honestly." Ninya smiled sheepishly, "But the Assassin Guild wanted me to deliver their note back to the Sanctuary so they recommended that I stay at the Morroc Inn. I'm sorry to have worried you, Mother."

"No, no. It's fine, Ninya. I'm just glad you're okay." The nun smiled, "I take it your mission was a success, then?"

"Yes!" Ninya smiled, holding out the note, "Their reply is written on the back of our message, apparently. I haven't read it."

"Ah, okay." Mother Trace smiled, taking the letter from Ninya, "Thank you so much for your work, Ninya."

The girl nodded, smiling, "It was no trouble."

Mother Trace wasn't listening, however, looking Ninya over. "Oh, your robes got dirty… I'm sorry. Why don't you take a bath upstairs? I can wash your clothes and get you a new set. I think we have a few extras in your size. How about it, dear?"

Ninya looked down at herself. Mother Trace was right; her clothes had gathered a good amount of dust, dirt, and sand from her time in Morroc... She nodded, smiling. "Alright, I'd like that."

The upstairs up the Church was accessible to the Clergy alone. High Priests, Priests, and Acolytes alike could find sanctuary in these rooms at all time. From time to time the Church would allow travelers to room when the inns were full or if they seemed in-need, but it was truly a place for those of Faith alone. The halls carried the same smell as downstairs; old wood mixed with the fragrance of always-burning candles and freshly cut flowers. The walls were a beautifully carved stained maple, elaborate designs throughout the halls. Marble statues of holy figures lined the halls, guarding her as she passed, her shoes sinking into the burgundy carpet. Stained glass windows created rainbows of patterns on the walls and floors, a sight that Ninya knew so well.

She stopped in front of a modest door and knocked twice, opening the door. Inside was a white marble bathroom the only real source of color being a small stained glass window depicting irises above an empty bathtub. Ninya smiled to herself and walked forward to turn on the water, letting the water rise steadily as she undressed, the light of a few candles sending flickers across the folding of her dress.

She sank into the water, letting the warmth spread over her, relaxing. True, she had just bathed this morning, but there was something special about here. It was much more calming, soothing; it felt like it wasn't just her body that was cleansed.

Ninya dipped her head under the water, slicking her hair back with her hands as she resurfaced. A few minutes went by and Ninya was contemplating getting out soon when a quiet knock sounded on the bathroom door.

"Hello? Miss Ninya?"

"Yes?" Ninya looked up, a girl's muffled voice sounding from the other side.

The door eased open and a young acolyte peeked though, one hand over her eyes, the other holding something at her side. "Father Bamph would like to speak with you when you're done. Also," She felt her way inside "Mother Trace sent me to give you these." She held out a fresh pair of priestess robes and a towel, "They said to take your tim—" The girl's words were cut off as she tripped over herself the garments and towel sent into the air, landing in a pile a few feet away.

"Are you okay?" Ninya had risen out of the water, grabbed the towel, and gone over to the girl, helping her to sit up.

"Y-yes." The acolyte looked up, blushing, "I'm fine."

Ninya smiled, "You should really watch where you're going."

The girl blushed deeper, her hands going up unconsciously to play with her lilac hair. "Right…"

"You wanted to see me, Father?" Ninya stepped inside the Observance Room, shutting the door behind her.

"Ah, yes. Have a seat, Ninya." Bamph folded his hands in front of him, looking at the young priestess, "I just wanted to have a quick follow-up on your mission."

Ninya nodded, sitting. "There's not much to tell, Father. I delivered the message and was told that if there was any other correspondence between the Church and the Assassin Guild to send the message directly to their main headquarters—just southeast of where you originally sent me."

Bamph raised an eyebrow, "Main, huh? I'm surprised. I didn't think the Assassin Guild would be so trusting as to reveal their location after only one meeting."

"Neither did I, Father."

"All right." The priest nodded, "We'll be sending more letters back and forth in the future, no doubt, and I'm sure the Assassin guild wants their location known to as few people as possible. We'll continue to send you, okay, Ninya? And tell no one else of the Assassins' whereabouts. I don't want this alliance jeopardized in any way."

Ninya nodded, rising, "Yes, Father."

"Oh, and, Ninya,"

She looked up, tilting her head.

"Thanks for delivering our letter."

It had been two weeks since then, and still no word from either the Church or the Assassin Guild. Ninya was starting to wonder if something had gone wrong. At first she thought she didn't care. Then, she thought that things were probably taking a while to set up. Now, though, she was starting to believe that something had fallen through. Of course, it was probably her just being her typical worry-wart self, but still she couldn't help it. It had taken all her self-control to simply not barge back into the Sanctuary after the first week and a half and demand that Father Bamph give her an update on what was going on. But, she had contained herself so far and she would continue to do so until she was called for once again by the Church.

In the mean time, the young priestess kept herself occupied with the typical community services carried out by many of the clerics in Prontera. Her days' duties would change from 'in-house' work such as tending to the alter and housekeeping in the church to outside duties, field work; healing the wounded, helping the poor, with the occasional odd job thrown in from time to time. It was on such a job that Ninya found herself dear the docks of Alberta.

The evening air was crisp, cool. There was but a few wisps of clouds in the sky, a dazzling bright half-moon, and stars a few bright stars scattered across the sky despite the city lights. It was a beautiful experience, really, improved only by the scent of the sea floating through the town. She had been in Alberta since morning, her day starting with a simple soup kitchen shift. Somehow, though, the girl had managed to volunteer herself to the Merchant Guild as a temporary delivery girl—despite the fact that she had no idea where her recipient was.

Ninya looked around, frustrated. She had been wandering the city for nearly twenty minutes now, and she still had no idea where she was supposed to be headed—heck, she couldn't even find the Kafra or Guide to help her out. With an annoyed sigh the priestess set the small crate she was carrying on the ground near a tall steel structure. She looked around for a minute, massaging her arms. In hindsight, maybe volunteering as a delivery girl in a city where she had nearly no bearings wasn't such a good idea…

Ninya bent down and picked the crate back up. From what she understood there were general adventurers' supplies in here: potions, wings, magnifiers, and the like that was needed at the Albertan Tool Shop. Too bad she had no idea where that was… Well, Ninya sighed, she had to have covered at least a third of the city… She'd find it eventually.

The girl began to walk again, keeping track of which direction she had come from, trying to recognize any familiar (or unfamiliar) landmarks like… well, like that! Ninya squinted into her darkening surroundings. As she walked the form of a docked sailing ship came into view, along with a young blonde man standing on its deck.

"'Scuse me!" Ninya's walk turned into a light jog, the contents of the crate clattering with every step, "Do you know where the Tool Shop is?"

The man looked up, his white sailor uniform clearly visible in the night. "Aye, Miss. It be just west of here. Jus' keep walkin' 'n you'll see the sign." He eyed the package she was carrying along with her priestess robes. "You're from the Church, aren't ya, Miss? What're you doin' out this late?"

"I'm helping the Merchant Guild." She smiled, "But I got lost. I'm just on a quick delivery then I'll be heading back home."

The man nodded, "Be careful, okay, Miss?"

"I will, thank you!" Ninya nodded back, unable to wave while holding her delivery, before heading off in the direction the man had indicated.

She shivered slightly. Not only was it late autumn, but the air from the sea had caused the already cool temperature drop even more. Even with Priest robes being one of the warmer (and slightly more conservative) uniforms that many of the jobs in Migard had to offer, it was still pretty chilly. Her knees buckled inward as a response to a breeze of wind that had managed to find its way through the docks, chasing itself under her skirts. Ninya frowned in exasperation as goosebumps formed beneath her stockings. She shook her leg, trying to straighten out her dress without dropping the crate she was holding. It might have worked if it weren't for the sudden force on her arm that pulled her backwards.

Ninya opened her mouth to scream, if only from surprise, but only managed a small squeak before a gloved hand covered her mouth. The crate went forward as she went back, neither of them landing softly. It half bounced, half skidded after flying a few feet in the air, a nice little chorus of clinks and cracks following the initial impact. Ninya landed on her rear, sending a hard shock up her spine and leaving her with a rather sore bottom. The priestess had been pulled back several feet, into an aisle created by a stack of shipping crates on one side and a concrete wall on the other. She looked up, emerald eyes searching for the source of her motion anomaly. She didn't find one—she found three.

They came in the forms of two blacksmiths and one rouge; all male, all pretty gruff-looking, and all watching her with expressions that resembled one that she had seen just weeks before. The difference, though? Their eyes were focused, driven. They knew what they were doing. And she knew, too.

The rouge, seemingly the leader of the group, stepped forward as one of the blacksmiths held her arms behind her back and kept her mouth covered. The second blacksmith went forward to inspect the crate and see if it still contained anything of value.

The rouge kneeled down in front of her, a lusty look in his eyes, a cruel smirk on his lips. Black hair was pulled back into a loose, short pony tail. His eyes, a grey brown, were scanning her struggling form, stopping on some of the more 'appealing' parts of her body.

Ninya wiggled even more. She could feel her entire body grow hot with embarrassment as the rouge looked her over. Her legs were tucked under her, her knees twisted to the side at a very uncomfortable angle. The combination of her and her captor's weight making it impossible for her to free her legs, impossible for her to access her only other means of defense. Not that attempting to kick a rouge, or even a smith, was a very good idea given the difference in their physical build… but hey, it would have probably given her at least a few seconds for a head start…

The rouge licked his lips, his tongue running over one of his many piercings. This man, as well as the others, was perfectly sober. They were sober and they were still holding her like— well, like this! They knew what they were doing, and somehow, that frightened her even more.

"There's not much left in the crate… just a few wings. All the pots broke." The other blacksmith came back over, brushing some red hair from his eyes, "How about we… take a different prize?"

The girl's eyes darted to the open crate that the man had left in the street. Well, so much for the delivery…

"Is that so?" The rouge drawled, "Maybe we shouldn't have been so sudden, huh? Oh well. This girl is enough…" He eyed her, a hand going forward, caressing her tearful face.

Odin! Was she just a _magnet_ for trouble? She shook her head as best she could in the smith's grip, trying to break the rouge's contact. How could this be happening to her… again? And this time it was three against one… Yeah, this _definitely_ not headed in a good direction…

_Mental note: Once the sun sets Lock. Yourself. Indoors._

Ninya strained at her captor's grip, twisting her arms, trying to free herself. But she might as well have tried to kill the Evil Snake Lord with a piece of grass. The smith's grip was excruciatingly strong; something, she supposed, that must have come from many years of forging weapons.

The rouge took a dagger from his side and brought it up the priestess's face, the gleaming metal reflecting her features. Ninya instinctively tried to back up away from the blade, forgetting that the blacksmith was behind her, still holding her fast.

"Don't worry, love." The rouge whispered in a fake soothing voice, "Stay still and we won't hurt you… much."

Ninya's eyes widened, following the blade as it came closer, causing her to go nearly cross-eyed before she shut her eyes in fear, her hear pounding. She could feel the flat side of the knife against her cheek, followed by a quick, sharp pain and warm liquid dripping down the side of her face. Her breathing was erratic. She was shaking. Her mind was reciting every prayer that she had ever been taught, desperately trying to find something to cling on to. It wasn't working.

Her neck and chest were cold. She opened one eye to see that the rouge had begun to cut the top of her dress in half, leaving nothing but a bra to separate that part of herself from these strangers. The rouge must have—wait a minute. The rouge.

Ninya's head shot up, both eyes open, looking around. Where had he gone? She could still feel the blacksmith behind her, but he seemed much more tense, his grip even more painful than before, bruising.

"Don't. Move." He growled from behind her.

Ninya whimpered an affirmative, bewilderment now mixed in with fearful eyes. What had just happened? Why was he so nervous? Where had the rouge and the other blacksmith gone? Not that she was complaining, of course…

And then, she saw it. Three blurs back out in the open streets of Alberta, the sound of metal on metal, and small sparks flying as weapons met. She stared. Someone was fighting the rouge and smith.

She wanted to cry out. She wanted to tell them to stop, to run. One versus two was bad enough, but it could turn into one versus three at any moment… Stranger or not, she was worried about him and—hold on. It looked like who ever had come to her rescue was succeeding. She watched as the fight between the silhouettes continued, one pushing the other two back, blocking attacks with his knife, and landing some of his own through punches and kicks.

The blacksmith was also watching his friends' impending defeat as his grip loosened from distraction, allowing Ninya to free her mouth from his grip. She turned and bit his finger. Hard.

The man howled and let go of the girl entirely. Fingerless gloves only did so much for protection. Ninya turned quickly, landing a well-aimed kick to the smith's nether regions. Fighting wasn't her specialty but even she could do _something_ on occasion. He dropped to his knees, pain written all over his face, his eyes shut in agony. Ninya turned back to watch the fight, wiping the man's blood away from her mouth. She crept forward, peeking around the crates, scanning the scene for any trace of movement. Where had they gone?

"Look out!" A sharp voice sounded from above, "Behind you!"

The priestess turned just in time to see the blacksmith on his feet again, coming at her, his face twisted in rage and pain.

Ninya flinched, her arms instinctively going up to protect herself from the smith's blow.

A few second passed. No blow. Ninya opened one eye, looking around. She shrieked and jumped back a few feet, an unconscious rogue lying on top of his dazed blacksmith friend.

Ninya looked up again to see the source of the warning. He jumped down, landing with a light 'thump' on the ground, dumping the now third unconscious body (the other blacksmith had passed out just a few seconds ago) on top of the others. The man straightened up, smirking.

"You okay?"

"Y-yeah…" Ninya was still staring down at the three men piled at her feet, shock clearly evident in her voice and expression, "Th-thank you, uh…" She looked up, clearly hoping to learn the name of her glorious Knight in Shining Armor.

Keep hoping.

The man who had rescued her did not introduce himself. In fact, it was highly doubtful that he had heard her thanks at all. Ninya looked at him, wondering why he hadn't answered her. He was looking at something, distracted by it. She followed his gaze… right back to the rip in her dress.

She felt her face redden immediately, her hand quickly going to hold the fabric together, as well as her composure. Currently, slapping the man clear across the face, rescuer or not, seemed like quite an appealing action.

"Oh, right." The man looked up, snapped out of his 'trance'. Grinning slyly, he was obviously not unnerved by the fact that he had just been caught red-handed at staring that the girl's chest. "Name's Vaider."

She nodded, still a deep pink. Her hand still holding her dress together, Ninya gave a small curtsey, "Thank you very much for saving me, Mr. Vaid—"

She froze, staring at the man, seeing him now really for the first time. He was a little less then a foot taller than her, standing at about six feet. He had a muscular build, a kind of rugged look, even with a clean-shaven face. She had just noticed that he was dressed in a Stalker's uniform, but ultimately, that wasn't what was bothering her. This man had bluish, spiked hair—blue hair and golden-brown eyes.


	3. Chapter 3: Let's Get This Straight

**A/N:** OHAI. Wow. Lookie. I'm alive. (Which is more than I can say for Ragnarok itself... :c ) Erm. Anyways. Yeah. This chapter has been sitting in my hardrive for like a year now. Figured I might as well upload it...  
I'd love some C&C if anyone still reads this stuff. xD Or just something to let me know I'm not typing to an empty internet... o_O

* * *

"Y-You!" Ninya's eyes widened as she stumbled backwards, tripping over the lid of the crate that she was supposed to be delivering. Instinctively, she put her hands out to break her fall, causing the cut in her dress to fall open again, her skirts flying as she fell.

Oh, _heck._

The priestess inched backwards, a few whimpers escaping her. What on _earth_ had she done to deserve this? She quickly flattened her skirt out again, covering herself back up with her hands, looking at the stalker as if he were a bomb—she wanted, _needed_, to get away. But on the other hand, if she moved she feared that she might trigger the explosion. So Ninya simply sat there, still and stiff as one of the statues that could be found in Juno's library.

The man looked at her, an eyebrow raised, but he didn't move forward. He was just standing there, looking at her. Not even in a 'bad' way, either. He was just… looking, trying to figure out what she was doing, and why.

"What the-?" The stalker crossed his arms, a cross between a smirk and a look of disbelief on his face. "What the hell are you doing, priestess?"

"D-don't play dumb!" Ninya half shrieked, half sobbed, glaring daggers at the man. "Like I'm really going to believe that you forgot what you did? What you _tried_ to do? You're no better than _them_!" She jabbed a shaking finger in the direction of the three unconscious men, her voice rising a few octaves with every word she threw at them man, finally splintering with the last word.

The man called Vaider hadn't moved at all. He was still standing there, his arms crossed in the same way, and the same irritating, mocking smirk plastered on his face.

"Say something!" Ninya screeched, obvious tear-streaks covering her cheeks, her eyes and face red.

"Like what?" The stalker looked at her, bringing his arms back to his side and taking a small step forward. "Like I remember, like I _know_ what the hell you're talking about?" He looked down at her, his piercing golden eyes meeting her swollen emerald ones as a small frown crossed his features. "Sorry to say, girl, but I honestly have no clue."

Ninya could feel herself shaking, but she met his gaze all the same, "You're… you're such a liar."

The man took another step forward, causing the priestess to shudder involuntarily. He was less than a foot away from her now, something that she _knew_ had happened before. The difference now, though? She couldn't smell any liquor, and his hands stayed on his knees and he knelt down in front of her.

"What are you _doing_?" Vaider scoffed, his brow partially furrowed. He was watching Ninya's eyes as they constantly, nervously flickered from the man's face to the man's hands.

"Calm down, okay? Look," He held his hands up in position of surrender, causing the priestess to flinch at his movement, "I'm not going to hurt you, okay? How about you just get up?" He rose, backing away a few feet, "You seriously look like a mess."

Even thought her panic, Ninya could feel her face redden slightly as she stiffened, looking away. Well was it _her_ fault that those creeps had just tried to attack her? She didn't think so. But then again—she chanced a glance at Vaider, who caught her eye and smirked—that was the key word: _tried_. She still wasn't sure that the man was telling the truth, if she could trust him, but he _had_ saved her… this time. Ninya got to her feet, her arms wrapped guardedly around herself.

"Fine," she muttered, forcing herself to look at him. "Thank you very much for your help, Mr. Vaider. If you'll excuse me I have a…" Her gaze wandered in defeat to the broken crate, "…a delivery to finish…"

Ninya walked over to the box, looking sadly down at the many shattered bottles and the multi-colored liquids. Sighing, she bent down and placed the lid back on the crate, picking it up. Might as well deliver what was left… How much money had she caused the Shop to lose? Oh boy, was she in for it now…

"Hey, wait!"

Ninya turned from a few feet away, a dull gaze landing on the stalker. "Yes?"

"So, what? You just gonna leave me here or something?" He frowned, looking at her.

"Well," Ninya said, a straining to keep a smile, though the tone of her voice clearly gave her away, "I don't see any more reason for you to keep me company; nor vice-versa. I have to finish what I started, Mr. Vaider, and I'm sure you have some business to attend to as well." She turned again, starting to walk towards the Tool Shop.

"Damn it!"

She could hear the stalker jogging to catch up. He wasn't exactly as silent as what would be expected from someone who supposedly made their living though, well, stalking—though he _was_ doing a very good job of harassing her so far.

This time she didn't stop, didn't turn around. Ninya just kept walked towards the tool shop. Only about forty feet more, then she could get rid of him…. She bit her lip, trying to talk herself out of simply throwing the rest of her delivery straight at the man's obnoxiously spiky head.

"Mr. Vaider," she half-shouted, exasperated, "_Please! _I have to finish this. I was expected back at the Church before dusk! I'm running very la—" Ninya froze as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned, her heart skipping a good number of beats, seeing the stalker just inches away from her. "M-Mr. Vai—"

"Would you please _stop calling me that_?" He glared, "Just Vaider, okay? Sheesh. And look," he took his hand off her shoulder, his voice quieting, "What in Baldr's name were you talking about back there? What do you mean 'I'm no better than them'? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Ninya looked at him reproachfully, watching his expression. She was looking for that smirk, that grin that she had already come to expect. It didn't show. Wait. He was… serious? Did he really not remember? The priestess frowned slightly. She had heard of blackouts before, but seriously? She took a small step backward, out of perspective this time rather than fear. Her gaze was unwavering. He had seemed pretty together when she had met him in the alleyway. Sure, it was obvious he was drunk, but he had stood steadily, and he had spoken more or less coherently. Should she be scared? Insulted, even? The guy had _molested_ her, after all, and here he was claiming no remembrance.

"You're serious, aren't you." It was a statement, not a question. Ninya half glared, half gawked at him, "You don't remember me? You don't even remember what you did? It was two weeks ago, in Morroc."

Vaider rose and eyebrow, shaking his head.

"Near the pub."

Another shake of the head.

She could feel herself shaking again. This time, however, it wasn't because of fright, but anger. He didn't remember? How could he _not remember_? She knew that this was the same man! Those eyes—like she could forget them. Focused or not, she _knew_ they were the same eyes; a bright, beautiful gold, but frightening at the same time, something unknown lurking just beneath their metallic surface. Did he have _any_ idea how scared she had been? How panicked? She _still_ wasn't sleeping properly! It was a good thing she was carrying this crate, otherwise Ninya would have slapped him silly by now.

"Hey, are you oka—" Vaider reached a hand out, a perfect mimic of that same awkward gesture that she had seen just nights ago.

"Don't touch me!" Ninya shrieked, shoving the stalker backwards with the crate she was holding. Again, her face was flushed, her breathing heavy, and her heartbeat increasing in response to the rage she felt building up inside of her.

She didn't know she could feel this furious. Especially at someone that she had only just met! Normally, Ninya Cruze was a calm, level-headed girl. But not now. This was just too much.

Vaider, caught off-guard by the girl's sudden hostility, stumbled backwards for a second, his eyes wide. He caught himself quickly and straightened up but did nothing else. He simply stood there, staring at the fuming priestess.

"Do you remember?" She glared, her voice cold.

Slowly, the man nodded, his expression unreadable as he backed away slowly like a shadow threatened with a torch.

Ninya watched him, her expression and voice slowly softening as the haze of fury began to subside. "Wait" She muttered, " Mr.— I mean, Vaider—" She set the box down quickly, "I didn't mean—well, I mean, you _did_ save me from those guys after all, and— Wait!"

It was pointless, though. He didn't wait. The stalker had disappeared in a blur, quickly and silently, and just as suddenly as he had appeared, leaving Ninya alone with nothing but the crate and its broken contents for company in the middle of the Albertan streets.

Looking back, it hadn't been as bad as she had thought it would be. The man behind the counter had been very forgiving. Of course, the fact that Ninya's eyes were still slightly red, her face was still stained from the tears, there was a nice red cut on her cheek, and that there was a poorly hidden hole in her dress's top may have had something to do with it, but he hadn't demanded she pay him back. He hadn't even yelled at her. It was obvious just looking at the girl that she had just gone through _something_ unpleasant, even if he didn't know what it was.

She had returned to the Church through a Warp Portal, sneaking up to the second floor before anyone had gotten a chance to corner her and bombard her with questions. The next morning after a shower, change of clothes, and healing the cut on her face and bruises on her wrists and legs, she had assured her Sisters that she was fine.

It had taken a bit of protesting, light arguing, and a lot of patience on either partys' part, but finally Ninya had managed to convince the Church that there was 'no harm done, honestly!' Which, was actually true more or less.

She had gotten a few now healed bruises and scrapes but otherwise the priestess's physical state was pretty good. Not only that, but she had actually been able to fall asleep for the past few nights. She didn't know why, but for some reason she hadn't been as scarring this time. Then again, the reality of something like that happening to her—to anyone—_twice_ in less than a month probably hadn't quite sunk in yet. Or maybe she had somehow managed to disconnect herself somehow. Either way, Ninya still couldn't figure it out. And honestly, she couldn't be bothered to.

True to her promise to herself Ninya had not set foot beyond her Church's Holy Grounds after the sky had darkened. Maybe it was caution. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was just pure cowardice, but the fact remained that Ninya Cruze hadn't stepped out into the night for nearly a week.

It was beginning to interfere with her work.

Before, Ninya had busied herself with cleaning. The Sanctuary, was, after all a very big place. It had furniture to be dusted, rooms to be cleaned, storage to be sorted and inventoried, and even gravestones to be polished and weeded. But even the Church only had so much to do—and Ninya had done it all.

At first they thought Ninya was simply taking an extra interest in the church's upkeep, and for that they were grateful. It way only after the seventh day when Mother Faust caught Ninya polishing a brand new shipment of rosaries that she began to worry.

"Ninya, dear…" The elderly woman approached her, her voice and expression gentle, "Ninya, we just got those in two days ago. I don't think they need to be cleaned, dear."

The younger priestess jumped, abruptly yanked out of her obsessive trace, attempting to rid the silver cross in her hand of an invisible tarnish. She turned around, the motion causing the candle light to flicker and the shadows to dance on the wall. "Oh! Mother Faust. Ah, I'm sorry. You uh—startled me."

She nodded apologetically, "Yes, I'm sorry dear, but you seem tired." She looked Ninya over, the young priestess's dark circles under her eyes appearing even more pronounced in the current lighting. "Have you been sleeping well?"

"Yes, yes." Ninya muttered, unconsciously twisting the stained cloth in her hands, "I suppose I'm just a little stressed."

"Stressed?" Faust looked down at her, candlelight dancing in her eyes, "How so, dear?'

"Um—" Ninya froze for a moment, "The um, Assassin's Guild," she improvised, hoping that she sounded believable, "It's uh, just that I haven't heard from Father Bamph lately and I was wondering if everything way going okay with them."

The elder smiled, apparently seeing no hint of a reason to question the girl's words. "No need to worry, dear. I'm sure everything is just fine. These things take time, you know. Please don't get yourself too worked up over it, alright? I'll make sure that he contacts you as soon as he needs you."

"R-right…" Ninya said, smiling, "Thank you."

Mother Faust nodded, "Absolutely, dear. Why don't you head upstairs? It's late; you need to get some sleep. I'll put these away." She nodded to the small crate of rosaries.

"Oh, okay." Ninya stood up and dropped the one she was holding into the box, unaware of the imprint she had given herself from clutching the cross so tightly. "Thank you."

"Not at all, Ninya. Good night."

"Ninya?"

She looked over her shoulder at the sound of a familiar voice calling her name. "Oh, hello, Father Bamph."

He smiled and "Mother Faust spoke to me earlier this morning."

"Oh," Ninya blinked for a moment, "I didn't mean for her to—I mean, she didn't—"

The priest nodded, "Yes, yes, I know. But she was worried, Ninya, and so am I." He smiled, his mustache and lips curling upwards, "But be assured that things are going quite well. In fact it just so happened that the Assassin guild contacted us late last night. They requested a representative of the Church to meet a few of their higher-ups and answer questions. Namely you, Ninya."

The priestess blinked, taken aback. "Why me?"

Father Bamph gave the slightest hint of a shrug, "I suppose it's a matter of trust; you're the only one who they've had any measure of face-to-face contact with. You must have made a good impression on them, Ninya." He smiled, "An assassin's trust is not an easy thing to gain."

She nodded hesitantly, "Y-yes… All right, I'll do it."

Father Bamph's smile broke out into a full-on grin. "Excellent! I believe your travel partner will meet you in the middle of Morroc. The letter specified that you be there at exactly five o'clock."

"F-five…?" Ninya echoed, "You mean in the evening? At night?"

Bamph nodded, "Yes… is there a problem, Ninya?" His voice held no trace of vexation; it was a mere inquiry, curious as to why the young girl seemed to object.

The priestess frowned slightly, biting back her desire to protest. "N-no, there's not. I'll be happy to meet them."

_After all, if one of the members of the Assassin Guild is going to guide me, I'll be okay, right…? _

Father Bamph nodded, but still looked somewhat doubtful, "Okay, Ninya. I think you'll be spending the night with the Guild, perhaps two, so please pack accordingly!"

She had finished packing with half an hour to spare. With her knapsack carrying only a small dinner, one extra set of clothes and undergarments, a nightgown, some potions, a good number of gems, and, of course a Bible, it was a fairly light load. And hopefully sufficient. Ninya didn't plan on being away for more than two nights, max. And that included the time it would take to go from Morroc to wherever the Assassins' Guild was located. With about twenty minutes left, Ninya then double, triple, and quadruple-checked her possessions. She was not exactly keen on the idea of spending any amount of time outside once the sun had gone down—especially not in Morroc.

Finally, no longer able to convince herself that she had 'misplaced' or 'forgotten' something or other, Ninya headed downstairs, her traveling cloak wrapped around her. Quickly, she bode farewell to Father Bamph, said a silent prayer at the Church's doors, and opened a Warp Portal on the cobblestone walk. When she opened her eyes again the solid stone had turned to packed-in dirt and sand. She was once again standing in Morroc.


End file.
